White Walls
by tinysammiches
Summary: Welcome to Hetalia Hospital, where all your dreams come true. We've got pairings of all sorts, and love all around! So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.
1. The Thin and the Numb

**Welcome to Hetalia Hospital, where all your dreams come true. We've got pairings of all sorts, and love all around! So sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.**

 **The Thin and the Numb**

…

Kiku didn't remember the first time he had to visit the hospital. He was so young the first time. As a matter of fact, he didn't remember the second or the sixth time either. He just knew that every time he got to go home, he had to take a new batch of pills that didn't really make him feel very well.

Some made his stomach hurt, some made him much too hot, and some just put him to sleep.

He also knew that he didn't like going to the hospital every other weekend. They liked to stick sharp needles into his arms and legs. He even tried to tell his mother and father that he felt better whenever they were putting him in his booster seat in the family's car. But they just shook their heads, smiling sadly.

Kiku didn't know when he had started to count his appointments either. But he did until he was fifteen. Appointment 416. Then he didn't see the point. He finally understood what his disease was, and that he couldn't fight it, so why count as if there was going to be an end?

His parents liked to tell people that they had a 'strong son' that never let his disease or disabilities 'get the best of him'. But they knew full well that he was anything but strong. He cried often and talked to no one. Kiku closed in on himself when the doctor had told him how he would probably be wheelchair bound in the next few years.

Whenever the the new nurses or people around him asked him what he had, they gave him sad looks, and he hated it. His health got worse as he spoke less and less. He just didn't want people to give his those looks anymore, so he didn't tell them what he had or what was wrong. Even his parents gave him those looks, the ones that seemed to know that his time was limited.

When Kiku was seventeen, he could no longer feel his legs enough to walk. They felt completely numb. He had cried for hours alone in his room, tugging at his useless legs and silently wishing for them to do something. A few weeks later, Kiku went completely mute. No matter what he said to anyone, they gave him sad eyes, and a shake of the head. His parents got the same looks too, but they seemed to crave them, and spread news about Kiku's condition to anyone that would listen. Kiku grew to hate people, and his parents.

On his eighteenth birthday he was admitted full time to the hospital. It wasn't because he was so sick he was dying in a few weeks. No. It was because his parents didn't know how to take care of a son who barely looked at them, much less spoke to them. They only came around the Holidays, and only stayed for about an hour.

In the hospital, Kiku was around a lot more people like him. They had put him in the young adults ward, and despite his muteness, he had found a few people he called friends. There was Arthur, who was missing an arm due to a tumor. He was in rehabilitation right now. He had a large family. Kiku thought that they were loud and sort of obnoxious, but he liked Arthur. Then then there was a boy named Matthew. He was quiet and didn't talk much, but he wasn't mute. He was allergic to everything except pancakes and Canadian maple syrup.

They never looked at Kiku like he was a victim, but he knew that they still felt bad for him. They never even asked him if he wanted to go outside with them and watch. They were all afraid to hurt his feelings. He was a pariah even in a place full of pariah's. Everyone was afraid to hurt his feelings, and never really looked him in the eye.

That is until he met Yao Wang.

.

Kiku rolled himself through the hallways, glancing at the pictures on the walls that the kids did in the children's ward. He liked children. They looked at everybody the same. He had just finished his treatments for the day. He was a little groggy, and wasn't paying attention to what was happening or where he was going. He was wishing that he asked for later appointments before he left when someone came out of the door right in front of him. He swung himself to the right to avoid running into the door.

From the back the person looked like a woman. They had long, black hair that was tied into a low pony tail. They wore a red silk shirt with sleeves that ended past their hands and tight black pants. Even from behind they looked seriously bony. The person spun around and Kiku was surprised to see that the person was a man. He looked to be around his age. His eyes were a pleasant golden brown and his cheeks were a little sunken in, but he wasn't unpleasant to look at.

The man looked around, before his eyes made their way downwards and finally landed on Kiku. Kiku braced for that dreaded look, but it never came. Instead the man's eyes lit up.

"Oh, thank God!" Kiku looked away then back quickly. "I was worried that I was the only one in this hospital for a second." He laughed, flipping his silky hair over his shoulder. When Kiku just stared at the man, the man coughed nervously. "Um…" He mumbled tapping his hands together. "Oh, right!" He mumbled. He put his hand out to Kiku. "My name is Yao. Yao Wang."

Not wanting to be rude, and to get this awkward encounter over with as soon as possible, Kiku took his hand and shook it once before dropping it. Kiku noticed duly that Yao had small, but soft hands. Yao laughed uncomfortably.

"Y- You don't talk much, do you?"

Kiku shook his head. He lifted his wrist for Yao to read the band he had on it. Yao lightly touched Kiku's wrist and bent down a bit.

"Your name is Kiku?"

Kiku nodded. Yao smiled. "That's a cute name." He said. Kiku felt his face heat up a bit. Was he making fun of him? "Anyway, um, Kiku?" He asked. "Do you have any idea how to get back into our ward? I got lost coming back from the bathroom." He said, scratching his cheek in embarrassment. Kiku nodded and jerked his head as a sign for Yao to follow him. They walked, well Yao walked Kiku rolled, down the hallways in relative silence. Yao only made a few comments here and there about how he was just admitted today and someone was supposed to show him around earlier, but had to leave for an emergency. Kiku nodded absently, not really paying attention.

They finally made it to the young adults commons and Yao thanked Kiku before going around the corner. Kiku sat, confused for a moment. The only thing around that particular corner was Kiku's room. He rolled forward and into his room. There were two beds in his room now, instead of his one. A few boxes sat around it and Yao stood over one, taking a few pieces of clothing out. Kiku made a noise of discomfort.

Yao spun around and smiled. "So you _are_ my roomate." Kiku raised an eyebrow. "Your name is on the outside of the door. I thought I recognized it." Yao smiled and put some of his clothes into the one dresser in the room. Kiku coughed, a little confused. "I hope you don't mind. I just moved some of your clothes over." He said quickly, moving onto another box. In truth, Kiku _did_ mind, but he couldn't really say anything either.

Kiku rolled to his bed and grabbed the handles on the side of his bed, and pulled himself up. He knew Yao was watching him, and it made his neck burn, but he went along with his routine. Once he finally got himself in his bed he laid down, and turned onto his side, his back to Yao. He always felt tired after his exams. Despite being uncomfortable with the extra person, and slightly annoyed by the noises he was making, Kiku fell asleep rather quickly.

.

When he woke up an hour later, Yao was sitting next to his bed, holding something in his lap, and a book in his hand. Kiku scrunched his eyebrows and sat up with his arms. Yao looked up at the movement. He smiled and put his book down on the floor.

"You're up!" He said, standing. He brought the thing he was holding on his lap and handed it to Kiku. Kiku rubbed his eyes and looked at the object.

It was a whiteboard about the size of a laptop. Kiku raised his eyebrow.

Yao looked down at Kiku, beaming. "I wanted to hear you." He said, handing Kiku a black marker. Kiku just stared at the board, his cheeks a little pink. Yao brought the chair closer, and got comfy.

Kiku looked to his smiling face and uncapped the marker. He wrote out his first sentence in his neat handwriting.

 _Why are you hanging around me?_

Yao blinked. "Well, I want to talk to you. You are my roommate until one of us gets better." He stated. Kiku looked down quickly. "What's wrong?" He asked gently. Kiku wrote a quick sentence.

 _I'm not going to get better._

Yao gasped quietly and looked away. "Oh." Was all he could say. Kiku looked at Yao from the corner of his eye. Would he give him that look now? The one that everyone did when they found out he would just keep getting sicker?

But to his great surprise, Yao looked at Kiku and smiled. "What do you do for fun?"

Kiku blinked, surprised yet again.

 _I read._ He looked back down at the board. He decided to be polite. _What do you do?_

Yao put one of his slim hands on his thin chin. "Hmm. Lots of things I suppose." He smiled again. "But I do enjoy a good book now and again."

Kiku nodded, then looked away, cheeks pink, when he realized he had been staring at Yao's rosy lips. ' _I'm just not used to people smiling around me is all'._ He tried to reason to himself.

"Now you ask me a question." Yao insisted, scooting his chair closer. Kiku wrote down the first thing that came to mind.

 _Where are you from?_

"I was born in China, but I left to go to University." He answered. "My turn." Kiku nodded getting a little excited. "Favorite color?"

 _Black._

 _Do you have any siblings?_

"Three. All adopted."

"Do you?"

 _No._

 _How old are you?_

"Nineteen, you?"

.

And it when on like this until the darkest hours of the night. Kiku got around to asking why Yao was here, and he seemed so nonchalant when he told Kiku he didn't like to eat. Kiku wished he could be as confident when he told people of his disease, but… he wasn't sure he ever would.

Over the next few months Kiku and Yao would become closer and closer. They talked like that almost every night. Kiku writing until his hand ached and Yao talking until his throat hurt.

Some things changed and some things stayed the same. Some of the changes were that Yao sometimes held Kiku's hand or brushed some hair out of his eyes. He had also started to sit in Kiku's bed beside him, and though Kiku couldn't feel it, he knew that Yao's legs were entangled with his. Sometimes they would fall asleep in the together, Yao's head on Kiku's chest. He also knew that Yao liked to play with his hair while he slept after his exams, and he sometimes kept his eyes closed just a bit longer just to feel Yao's hands slide through his hair, and to hear him hum a sweet melody.

One thing that Kiku noticed was that he had never seen Yao eat. Yao never came to the canteen and he never took part in the snack food that Kiku brought back sometimes. When he asked about it, Yao said that he ate in the room. Kiku wanted to believe him, he really did, but he couldn't hide his concern when Yao began to look paler and thinner.

Yao would always brush him off and tell him that he was fine, then they would move onto different topics.

Kiku told Yao all about his parents and how he disliked them. He told Yao about the way people looked at him, and why that made him mute. Yao then asked if Kiku could speak if he wanted to. Kiku wanted to say yes, he could, but when Yao prompted him to do so, Kiku froze up, unable to do anything. Yao smiled, like always, and understood.

Yao told him about his past as well, and Kiku drank in everything. He never talked to Matthew or Arthur like this. Yao told him that his family actually disowned him because he was gay.

Kiku couldn't say that he was surprised about hearing Yao's sexuality. Why else would he touch Kiku all the time? He was just surprised by the intense gaze Yao had given him when he told him, as if waiting for Kiku to say or do something.

Kiku, not really ever wondering about his preference decided that he liked Yao. Just Yao. He held no interest in other men, like the super muscled patient Ludwig, or the busty nurse Katyusha. But he liked Yao. A lot.

Yao was simply beautiful on Kiku's eyes. He had a brilliant smile that could bring his mood up no matter how bad his exams that day had gone. Yao spoke his mind, but didn't get Kiku down for his opinions. Yao never told him he couldn't do something, and though it sounds bad, he never asked Kiku if he needed help. If it was obvious, Yao would just help, like getting something off of a top shelf, though sometimes Yao had to ask Ivan for help because he wasn't very tall in the first place. The most important thing however was that Yao never gave Kiku that look. He always looked at Kiku like he would live for a hundred more years, and that he could do anything if he wanted to.

So yes. Kiku felt himself falling more and more in love with Yao. Just Yao.

.

Like most good things, it cannot last.

Kiku had finished a littler earlier than usual with his exam, and was rounding the corner to his and Yao's room when he heard glass shattering. He jolted in surprise, and pumped his arms faster to get into the room. He stopped at the door and ducked when a glass bowl covered in saran wrap came hurling towards him. It shattered against the wall behind him, dripping soup all over the hallway floor.

He looked back into the room with wide eyes, and wanted to cry. There were glass bowl and plate shards covering the floor. Food; sandwiches, chips, fruits, and veggies, were stuck to the walls and smeared on the floor. And in the middle of it kneeled Yao, his golden eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. His hair was loose and cascaded down his back like fine strands of silk. He opened his mouth and only got one word out before he crumpled onto the floor, sobbing; "Kiku."

Kiku rolled forward and fell onto Yao. He pushed his chair away and shifted Yao into his lap. Even though Kiku couldn't feel him, he knew Yao was far too lite. Yao grasped onto Kiku's shoulders and cried, and cried, and cried. He mumbled "I'm sorry" and "I can't do it" over and over again. Kiku nodded each time and carded his fingers through Yao's soft, soft hair. He felt something welling up in his throat, and he opened his mouth on reflex. What came out was…

"Yao."

It was quiet, and it scratched his throat. But Yao heard it. Yao pushed himself back, and put his forehead to Kiku's. "D-Did you j-just-?" He hiccuped. Even with tears and snot covering his thin, too thin, face, Kiku thought Yao was the most beautiful person he had ever seen.

Kiku nodded, and he felt his face wet with his own tears. Yao touched Kiku's face with his cold fingers, tracing his lips. "Yao." Kiku whispered again, and Yao laughed. It was a broken, watery laugh, but it still made Kiku's heart leap. "Yao?"

Yao wiped his face with his sleeve and grimaced at it. He hadn't seemed to hear Kiku. He placed his head on Kiku's chest, and he could feel his shirt get damp. Yao held onto Kiku tighter, and sobbed loudly. Kiku swept his hand through Yao's hair once more. Kiku put his lips to Yao's head and decided he should just say it, even if Yao couldn't hear him. His tears fell into Yao's hair.

"I love you." He cried, his voice softer than a feather. "I love you…" He cried harder when Yao's grip tightened. He knew he had heard, but he couldn't stop. "I love you… I love you, Yao."

.

The nurses hadn't been happy when they walked in to give Yao his dinner, but they practically glowed in happiness and excitement when Kiku asked them, his voice worn and weary, to just let it go, just for once.

They had sighed but agreed, just this once. Once they had left Kiku sat on his bed massaging his throat.

"Is it weird?"

Kiku turned to Yao, who for once was on his own bed, and smiled. "Yeah." He dropped his hand. "But I'm sure I will get used to it." Yao stood and walked over to sit next to Kiku. He heaved out a long, heavy sigh. He looked at Kiku, his eyes red and puffy.

"I hope you do." Kiku leaned closer.

"Why?" He whispered. Yao smiled and leaned closer as well.

"I want to hear you."

…

 **Hey! This is just my little collection of hospital one shots, purely for your enjoyment!**


	2. Alone in these Empty Halls

**Hey guys, not much to say…**

 **Alone in These Empty Halls**

…

"Now, if we could all introduce ourselves to one another?"

Everyone in our circle of mismatched chairs sighed. We all already knew each other. We were never without each other. We ate together every day at eight in the morning, twelve in the afternoon, and six at night. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We went on walks together, those of us that could. Some of us shared rooms, like Kiku and Yao. Arthur and Alfred. Matthew and Gilbert. Francis and Ivan.

Me, you ask?

I slept alone. I usually ate alone, too, now that you mention it. Sometimes my brother would visit, and we would eat together. But, that wasn't very often. I went on walks alone. I am even alone in being the only female. Now that I think about it, I was the first one here, alone for years before everyone else came. Kiku, Alfred, Gilbert, Arthur, Francis, Ivan, Matthew, then Yao.

That was the order we introduced ourselves to this new "group therapist". He didn't look like much. Shoulder length, yellow blonde hair. His eyebrows never seemed to unknot. He had giant green eyes. I guess he was kinda tall, maybe a little handsome. He cleared his throat.

"Nice to meet you all. My name is Vash Zwingli. I am replacing Mrs. Elizaveta as of today, as she is on maternity leave."

Arthur raised his only arm. "Is she going to be coming back?" Vash nodded curtly.

"In a sense, yes. She also got a small promotion into individual therapy, so some of you will be seeing her instead of your old one."

My eyes snapped up from looking at my lap. Elizaveta and I didn't really get along that well. She just pushed the wrong buttons with me, I suppose. Yet again, who didn't. I didn't get along with Francis or Gilbert either. Or Alfred. Or Ivan.

"Moving on, I would like to know the disability each of you have, on the most basic level if you would." Some of us looked down or away. Alfred nudged Arthur, seeing as he was the most obvious choice to go first.

"Um, well," he sat up straighter. "I had a tumor in my right arm, and it had to be removed. I am almost done with rehabilitation, and should be leaving by the end of the month." Vash nodded and wrote something down on the green clipboard he was holding. Arthur glanced to Alfred.

"I have an anxiety disorder." He muttered out quickly, and looked to Ivan, who smiled and chuckled.

"Just a little case of OCD."

Vash stared at Ivan for a moment before nodding and writing.

Gilbert sat up in his seat, almost as if he was proud. "I have multiple personalities!" Then his eyes seemed to shift down, and he slumped back into his chair, once again ashamed. Matthew took Gilbert's hand before whispering that he was allergic to everything on Earth. Vash actually looked slightly impressed with that one.

Kiku was next. He still liked to keep his sentences short and quiet, even though he was talking more and more. "MS I have no feeling in my legs, and up until two months ago, I was mute."

Yao rubbed the back of his head before laughing, "I'm recovering from anorexia."

Francis' eyes were sad, "I am here because I hurt myself."

All eyes were on me. Green, blue, violet, red, purple, brown, hazel, blue- purple and green again. I looked in the middle of the circle, at the white floor.

I clenched my hands together. "Bipolar 1."

Or so they said. There was nothing wrong with me. Everyone has emotions… Mine are just… stronger… than most people's.

I expected Vash to ask more questions, or for him to say I was faking it. But, he didn't. He just… moved on. My gaze slipped to his. He wasn't even looking at me anymore. My eyes went back to my folded hands. I still had them clenched.

"I am going to try something new for you kids." Ivan snorted from his chair across from Vash.

"Kids? Some of us are your age. What are you, nineteen, twenty?"

"Twenty- one," Vash answered immediately, not even looking at Ivan. "As I was saying, you will be pairing up with one other person, and you will be doing everything together."

"But-" Francis interjected. Vash raised his hand. "Yes, I know that you all already do basically everything together. But in this exercise, you will be made to talk about yourselves for an hour to each other. Of course, your individual therapy, and appointments with the doctor's are not included in this exercise. Now pair up and tell me your partners."

I rolled my eyes. Anyone could tell who each other was going to choose. None of those choices included me. Yao went with Kiku, Ivan with Francis, Alfred and Arthur, Matthew and Gilbert. And me, myself, and I. Again, I was alone. I tried to pretend it didn't hurt.

Vash wrote down the names and looked to me. "Well, Lovina. It seems that you are going to be with me." My head snapped up so fast it almost hurt.

"What?" I asked.

He nodded and stood, putting the clipboard under his arm. "I could put you with another group, but talking is easier in groups of two. So, seeing as there is no other option, you are with me." I heard Ivan snicker, and sudden, crippling anger filled me.

I shot out of my chair so fast, it fell backwards and tumbled to the floor noisily. "Fuck that!" I shouted, my hands clenched at my sides. My stomach churned and my cheeks got red. Vash's eyes widened a fraction. I folded my hands together and pressed them onto my stomach, pushing into it. Out of my periphery, I saw Vash take a step towards me, but Arthur grabbed his arm, stopping him. "I would…" I ground out of my clenched teeth. I took a deep breath. "I would rather be alone." I let my arms drop. I turned around, with my head down, and walked out of the therapy room.

No one could know what a lie I had told.

I walked alone down the empty halls, and wished so desperately, that the halls were filled with friends, my brother, and maybe someone holding my hand. I wish I wasn't so… alone.

I got to my room, much too lived in, laid down, and fell asleep.

…

" _Don't take her!" "She hit me!" "What's wrong with you?" "How could you?" "Give me back my daughter!" "This is Feliciano, your brother." "Please, I love her! Don't take her!" "Stop faking!"_

 **There's nothing wrong with me**

" _Lovina hit me!" "Why is she doing this?" "You don't even have a reason to be depressed." "Why are you so angry?" "NO!" "She never stops crying." "Why can't you just be normal?" "GIVE HER BACK!"_

…

 _ **BAM**_

I shot upright in my bed with a gasp. I looked at my digital clock. 12 pm on the dot. I missed breakfast. My stomach growled.

I got out of the bed and took off my sweaty clothes. What had I dreamed about? Was it a nightmare?

 _ **BAM**_

I sighed shortly and looked to the door. I quickly got changed into new clothes and went to investigate the noise coming from right outside my door. I opened it quickly and glanced out.

 _ **BAM**_

"The hell?"

Vash jumped a little and looked up at me in all my morning glory. He was sitting against the wall, a pillow shoved between his back and the wall. He was wearing slippers, and… pink pajamas. He was furiously writing in his clipboard and slamming the finished papers into a binder on the floor to his right. Every time the bindings clipped into place;

 _ **BAM**_

Vash put the clipboard onto his lap and stood, rubbing his back. I blinked. "Did you… did you sleep here?"

He stretched his arms above his head. "Of course," he said, as if it was obvious. "I did say that partners have to do everything together." He picked up his pillow, and fluffed it a bit. "As I understand, you have a couch in your room?"

Before I could say anything, he entered _my_ room and threw the pillow onto _my_ couch. He started to take his frilly pajamas off, and I turned around quickly.

"Have _some_ decency!" I shouted, my face turning red. I stomped out of the room and made my way down to the cafeteria, not even telling Vash where I was going.

No one spared me a glance as I grabbed a plain bagel and sat down. Kiku and Yao were more gooey than ever, Yao sitting in the others lap as he ate small bites of food. Arthur was nowhere to be seen, so Alfred was sitting with Ivan and Francis, laughing and talking. Matthew was shovelling pancakes into his mouth, and Gilbert looked unnaturally shy as he watched Matthew, picking at his own plate.

I split my bagel into halves and spread some cream cheese onto them. I was in peace for about three more second before Vash sat down in front of me, blocking my view of the rest of the cafeteria.

"Well, this is as good a time as any," he said. I blinked at him, my mouth full of bagel and cheese.

"What?" I said with my mouth full.

He had taken out that stupid clipboard out again. "To talk about yourself."

I swallowed. "What?" I asked again.

"If you recall, I said yesterday during the meeting that you are to sit down for an hour and talk about yourself to your partner. I am your partner. Now talk." He took out a pen and clicked it, and waited.

I snorted. "If you think I am going to talk to you for a whole hour, then you're crazy. I don't even talk to my therapist for more than five minutes." I wrapped my half eaten bagel in tin foil and tossed it into the trash can to my left. "Especially while you have that stupid clipboard."

Vash put his pen down. "Why would you think my clipboard is stupid?"

I took the pen and stuck it into my back pocket. He didn't say anything, or even react. "It makes people think they are nothing but a report. I mean, we might as well be that to you, but we all have enough issues. We don't want to be a report on top of all the other shit we deal with. So maybe you should wait to write down whatever it is you do until you're done talking with someone."

Vash folded his hands. "Hm, interesting. I never thought about it that way." He folded a hand through his hair. "Could you tell me one of these issues you have, other than being a report?"

I stood and clenched my hands. "You." I turned and left the cafeteria, not caring if he followed or stayed.

And yet, looking back, when I realized he hadn't followed, it kinda stung a little.

That was the first time anyone had eaten with me. For once, I wasn't… alone.

…

This continued for weeks. I would get to the cafeteria first, and Vash would follow, eat with me, try to talk with me, and wouldn't follow me when I left. I also started to stay in my seat longer and longer with him until we had sat there for one hour, then two. It was kinda… nice.

Vash was nice. He was warm when you got down to talking to him. He stopped with the whole clipboard thing. He laughed easily. His eyebrows still never unfurrowed, but his eyes smiled gently.

And no matter how much I would like to admit that I didn't start opening up to him, and that I kept shutting him down, I couldn't. I slowly started to talk about my disorder, my loneliness, my pain. I told him that my mother couldn't take care of me, but suddenly had the money for Feliciano. How everyone thought I was faking my disorder.

He talked about his home life, about his sister. He explained that she was the one who made the pajamas.

But there was something still holding me back from telling him everything I was feeling.

The feeling of my heart pounding when he was close to me. The feeling of falling in love with him, his kindness.

Maybe it was the crippling feeling that he would turn around and begin to hate me. Maybe it was that I was so angry at nothing, and that anger held me back. Maybe it was the overwhelming sadness.

…

Today, when I woke up, the world was gray. My body ached, my head ached, my chest ached. I didn't want to cry, but I did. I desperately wanted to cry, but I didn't. I wanted to scream, to scream until my chest was torn open, and my heart was shattered. I wanted to talk to Vash but… Oh God, I didn't want to. My whole being rejected the idea of talking to Vash, but it longed for his voice, his kind words.

I sat up slowly and looked at my clock. One in the morning. I took a deep breath and stood. I needed my emergency meds. This feeling overwhelming me would be worse by morning if I didn't take them. I glanced at Vash sleeping on the couch. His legs were bent because he couldn't fit. It couldn't be comfortable.

I opened my door slowly and shut it silently. The lights in the hallway were always on. The halls were cold, empty. I passed by Kiku's room, Ivan's room, and stopped by Arthur's. The door was open. I leaned in, just out of the barest hint of curiosity. Alfred was in his bed, snoring loudly. Arthur was once again, nowhere to be seen.

I continued to walk down the hall, past Matthew's room and into the cafeteria. It was empty. I kept walking, through the next hallway. It was empty as well. I took a left and found that the medication room door was open, though none of the lights were on. I knocked softly on it and opened it.

"Arthur?" I muttered, stepping into the room. The medication room was one of the only rooms in this flight of the hospital with a window. Arthur sat on one of the cots and stared out of it at the nights sky. He hadn't responded to me, but he did look at me. The look in his eyes…

"Arthur, what is it?" I came closer and sat down. Not so close as to touch, but close enough to talk.

He looked back out to the pitch black sky. There was no moon, or stars. He took a breath. Then another. Then, he spoke.

"Do you think… Do you ever think God has it out for you?"

I looked at my lap. "I stopped believing in God a long time ago."

He hummed and rubbed at his shoulder, at what was left of his other arm. "I still believed. I believed because that is what gave me hope. I thanked Him, because I was still alive, even if I was missing an arm."

I nodded, and looked out the window, trying to see what he was staring at. "But," he continued. "He took that thank you, and shoved it back into my face." He said bitterly.

I looked to him. "What do you mean? You get to leave here in, what, two days?" Arthur laughed, but there was nothing joyful to it.

"I'm not leaving. I'm not leaving until they take my leg. And then I recover again. And then what? Will another part of me be riddled with cancer? My other arm, leg? My heart?" Bitter tears fell down his cheeks. My heart plummeted into my stomach. Arthur was one of the only people who I got along with, and I was actually happy for him that he was leaving. My body suddenly felt numb.

"Your cancer-"

"It's spread. To my leg." He cut me off, his hand covering his face. "I was _so_ close to going home. So close to being free. They were going to let Alfred come with me… Oh God, how am I going to tell Alfred?"

"I have to-" I took a breath. "I have to…" I folded my hands into my stomach, and pressed them into my stomach hard. Anger, numbness, anger, numbness. I was so… angry. "I'm so sorry… I have to… go…" I gasped out. I barely saw Arthur nod before I flew out of the medication room.

I ran all the way back to my room, flung the door open and let the anger clawing and tearing me apart out.

"FUCK!" Things started flying around my room. I don't remember picking anything up, or throwing anything, but my lamp was suddenly shattered, by pillows torn, feathers everywhere. "FUCK, WHY?!"

"Lovina?!" I heard Vash shout from behind me. I didn't care, I didn't care, I didn't care. I spun around, tears streaming down my cheeks. I could hardly see, hardly breath. Vash took a step towards me, his hand outstretched. I smacked it away from me.

"STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!" I screamed at him. I could hear doors opening from the hall. I threw a pillow at Vash, my heart tearing itself into pieces at the hurt look in Vash's pretty eyes. Yet he still walked to me. "D- DON'T TOUCH ME!" I hit his chest, his arms with all my strength. He held my wrists with his hands. "S- stay awa-away from me." I hiccuped. I couldn't breath. My throat ached. He brought his arms around me waist and my shoulders, dropping my wrists. They fell lifelessly by my sides.

"V- Vash…" I whined. He shushed me and began to rock me back and forth, hushing me and mumbling that it would be okay. My tears made a wet spot in his shirt. I sobbed, cried, screamed, but he didn't let me go until I was too tired to stand. He carried me to my bed, tucked me in, kissed my forehead, his eyes so sad, so broken.

I was so tired.

…

I didn't do anything today. I spoke to no one. I didn't eat. I just slept and sat. Vash sat with me sometimes. He sometimes told me stories. His voice was warm, but I didn't feel it. Sometimes he held me while I slept.

…

When I woke up after a week of nothingness and numbness, Vash wasn't there. I rubbed my crusty eyes and looked down at my bed.

"His clipboard…?" I mumbled, my voice was dry and I sounded terrible. I looked around for him, but my door was open and he was gone. I tapped my finger on the clipboard and thought for only a moment before I opened it.

It was… a journal. Each paragraph separated by a date, and small title. I flipped to the front and my heart started to thunder.

 _May 19, 2016_

 _Today, I met my patients. There is Ivan, Alfred, Arthur, Kiku, Francis, Yao, Gilbert and Matthew. Ivan is a little intimidating, but the other doctors warned me of that. Then there is Lovina. A girl with Bipolar 1. Her file said she goes from manic anger to depression, but she is having a few good days it seems where she seems fine. I cannot help but notice how pretty she is, even when she is angry. She tries her best to contain it, but she has quite the mouth on her. Is is odd that I find it slightly endearing?_

What? Vash thought I was pretty? Endearing even? I shot a glance at the door and flipped through the papers on the board. Most of them were normal entries, only changing in day but not content. Many began to talk more and more about me, at my smile, my humor, my beauty. I must have been halfway through by the time I started to cry. It was the last paragraph that had me sobbing into the paper, my tears streaking the words.

 _August 3, 2016_

 _I wish there were a way to tear one's own heart out, one's own brain, one's own mind. I wish to bare the burden of Lovina's mind. I wish I could understand all the workings of her tortured mind. I want to replace her with me. She doesn't deserve this. No one does. She bare's it so quietly, this burden she has. I want to kiss away her anger, her troubles. So much so, it aches. I do not want her to hurt anymore. I pray to God that he helps her, because I no longer know what to do. I ache to love her outright, to help. It is tearing me up inside. Please God… Help her. Help her… Help my beloved Lovina._

I closed the clipboard, and tucked my face into my bent legs. How could it hurt so much to be loved?

"Lovina?"

I looked up, snot and salty tears mixing on my face. Vash stood in the doorway, his eyes wide. He was carrying a tray full of food. He made his way into the room and put the tray down on the bedside table. He sat next to me and looked as if he wanted to touch me, but didn't know how.

"Lovina, what is it? Does something hurt?" He asked, his beautiful eyes searching my body.

My arms flung out and brought Vash to me by his shirt. His arms slowly wound around my shaking body. He held me gently, but firmly. I could feel his heart beating. "I love you." I whispered into his ear. He stiffened and leaned away.

"What?" He whispered, touching my cheek.

I tried to wipe away my tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. "I love you, Vash. Oh my God, I love you, and it hurts. It hurts so bad."

Vash brought me close again, and rocked me once again. "I know it hurts. I feel it too. I know Lovina, I know it hurts." I buried my face into his neck, and cried until my lungs hurt. "I know it hurts, my love, I know. Shh, my love, shh".

I cried until the sun set, and he rocked me. Throughout the rest of our life, when I cried, he rocked me. Even when we were old and wrinkled, he rocked me. And he never misunderstood. He would whisper "Shh, my love, shh, I know."

…

 **With lots of love 3**

 **Please review!**


	3. So I Stayed

**So I Stayed**

…

Everyone has a story about how they met the one that they love. Sometimes it's a simple story, like they were high school sweethearts that never grew apart. Same thing goes for college sweethearts, or middle school.

Sometimes the story is more intricate, and they somehow met each other at a party or a bar. They quickly fell in love and now they have two kids and a house. Sometimes they have a dog. Or a cat.

The story gets even more elaborate sometimes. They hated each other for half their lives, but sooner or later realized that it was passion and love. Sometimes people travelled halfway across the world, and found that who they were talking to wasn't who they said they were, but find themselves loving them anyway.

I'm not sure where where our story would belong. I know it wouldn't be the simple, easy one. But I couldn't tell you if it was so complicated that no one could follow it. I guess I should start at the beginning.

The first time I met Berwald, he was asleep.

.

The coma ward had always calmed me down. I know that that is a pretty strange thing to say. Most would probably say that the coma ward was creepy, and the patient's reminded them of dead people. But I always liked the peace of it.

The steady rhythm of heart monitors, the offbeat of the oxygen concentrators. Everything had its own tune in the hospital. The psych ward was loud, but exciting like drums beating an unsteady cadence. The clinic was quiet, but anxious like the singer who didn't know the words to their song. The children's ward was wild and upbeat, like the guitar that carried the band. The coma ward, however, was the bass. It was quiet, and no one really cared to notice it, but if it wasn't there, they would feel something off.

I had had a rather hectic day in the clinic, calming down people who thought they had some terrible infectious disease, when in reality they had only caught the common cold, or the flu. I was more than happy to switch with one of the other nurses to monitor the coma ward. I had been doing my usual routine, checking clipboards and brain waves to see if there was any change. Sometimes there would be, and it looked as though the patient were having a dream, which was good to see. Sometimes they would be the same as the day before. Sometimes they had never changed.

I was in the middle of checking a young boys stats when a doctor called out my name.

"Tina!"

"Oh, hello Doctor!" The doctor before me was the head of the department, Alfred Jones. He rolled his bright, blue eyes.

"I told you to call me Alfred. Calling me "Doctor" all the time makes me feel like we didn't grow up together." He put his hands into his lab coat. He tilted his head a bit and started to walk.

I laughed, following him. "Yes, but Alice doesn't really like it much when I call you Alfred."

Alfred laughed and shook his head. "She doesn't like anything, but damn, I love her." He had a fond smile on his face, his cheeks a bit red.

I looked down, a soft smile on my face. Alfred and Alice had always been a good match for each other. They fell in the high school sweetheart category. They had been married since Alfred was twenty, and they had two beautiful children by the time he was twenty- four. They even had a dog.

I had always been a bit jealous of my childhood friend. To find a love like theirs was rare. I had always hoped I could find someone like that.

"So where are you taking me?" I asked after a bit of walking and small talk. Alfred smiled and slipped a folder out of his coat.

"I was wondering when you were going to ask me that." He flipped the file open and stopped in front of a door. A closed door.

A closed door was odd, since there was never really any need for one. Everyone was asleep, and family usually liked to keep the door open in case something miraculous happened. A closed door either meant that the patient was getting a sponge bath or they were about to be taken off of life support.

"Berwald Oxenstierna. Age: 25. Coma: Induced. Had surgery to remove a metastasized blood clot in his calf, induced coma because of pain" he recited. He looked down to me. I raised an eyebrow.

"Okay…?"

It was nothing new or random to see a patient put into an induced coma because of pain after surgery or some other medical reason. Alfred scratched the back of his head.

"Well, you see. While he was getting the surgery, and before, he kind of scared the other nurses and doctors. He's rather intimidating apparently."

I blinked. "Okay…?"

Alfred sighed and handed me the file. "Long story short, you're the only nurse he hasn't scared away, and now I'm assigning you to be his one and only nurse, and him to be your one and only patient until his hospital stay is completed."

I opened my mouth. Alfred cut me off. "I can't do anything about it, Tina. This was a direct order from Elizaveta." I slumped my shoulders.

Elizaveta was the head of the hospital. "But… But, what if he scares _me?"_ I asked, clutching the file closer to my chest. This man sounded scary. How could he have scared so many people away? Was he a psycho? Or worse, a pervert?!

Alfred put his hand on my shoulder. "Godspeed, my friend."

And then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open.

It took me longer than it should have to walk into the room. Never before had a door looked so intimidating to me. But I talked myself into it, only because I had to. He was asleep, how much trouble could he be? I would be fine. At least until he woke up.

I grasped the handle and flung the door open. I slowly walked towards the bed and peered at the man. I felt my stomach hit the floor. Not out of fear. Out of awe.

He was… handsome. Very handsome. I felt my face get hot. I shook my head, and grabbed the clipboard at the end of his bed. My heart twisted.

"No family, huh?" I asked, though I knew I wouldn't get an answer. I sat down in the chair that was near his bed, and looked at his face. I leaned my elbows onto onto my knees. "Me neither." I didn't usually speak to the patients, but something about this one, this Berwald, wanted to make me talk. Maybe it was because he was handsome, or maybe it was because he was a just as alone as I was. Besides, if I were to be his only nurse, and he my only patient, we might as well get comfortable with one another.

"My name is Tina Vainamoinen. I'm your nurse." Berwald didn't move. I scooted my chair up closer. "I'm your only nurse, actually." I thought for a moment. "Are you really all that scary when you are awake?"

Of course he didn't answer. It was so quiet, I could hear the clock ticking in the corner. "I don't think you will be. I bet you are very nice, they just didn't want to get to know you. I wonder if it is true that coma patients can hear when they are asleep. I wonder if you would tell me when you wake up." I leaned my arms onto his bed, and put my head down on top of them. "I wonder if you will tell me anything about yourself when you wake up. Like, your middle name, or if you have any hidden talents." I sighed to myself. "I bet you have lots of talents." I smiled as my eyes began to close, suddenly very tired. "Don't you worry. I'll uncover all of them. I will get to know everything there is to know about Berwald Oxenstierna."

.

Two weeks later Berwald woke up. It wasn't really a major affair since the coma was induced in the first place, we just had to take him off the medication that caused it. That, and Berwald had no one there to really celebrate it with him. Except for me.

I sat by his side until his eyes opened. And suddenly I knew why everyone was so afraid. His eyes were blue. Not the soft kind of blue that a caring mother has. Not the deep, sparkling blue like Alfred's. Berwald's eyes were icy, and bright. They were the intense blue only found in movies and books about the paranormal. But, I couldn't bring myself to feel any fear. Over the past two weeks, I had told Berwald all there was to know about me. I had noticed small things about him, even though he was asleep.

He had large calloused hands, but they seemed gentle. He had soft features, except his eyes. He was rather large in build, but for some reason, I couldn't see him using that against me, or anyone else.

When Berwald awoke, he was a bit dazed. He looked around the room, almost glaring. He had bags under his eyes despite sleeping for so long. He startled a bit when he noticed me, sitting by his side. He stared at me for a moment, but didn't say anything. I decided that he needed a little push.

"Hello. I'm Tina Vainamoinen. I'm your-"

"Nurse."

Berwald had a deep voice. It was heavy, but not unkind. I giggled.

"Yes, I am your nurse. Your one and only in fact." I stood and disconnected the oxygen machine, and took it off of his face. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Berwald blinked and shifted, only to wince. "My leg hurts."

I smiled kindly at him. "Yeah, you're going to be feeling that for awhile, until the sutures heal. It will hopefully go away after that."

"Hopefully?" He asked, watching me walk around and turn off some things while I turned on others.

I frowned. "Sometimes, the pain lingers. Sometimes it never goes away." My hand subconsciously went to my stomach. "If I could be one hundred percent honest, Mr. Oxenstierna?"

He nodded. He didn't seem to talk much. I sat down in my chair once again. I looked at him straight in the eyes. "You might be in pain for the rest of your life. You might have to use a cane, or a wheelchair." He looked down, frowning.

"But, I can help you through it." I wasn't sure if I meant just the hospital stay or more. "I'll be taking you through physical therapy and you will be referring to Doctor Jones for your prescriptions if you need any." Berwald bit the inside of his cheek. I sighed and stood.

"I suppose you need time to take this all in. I will be in the hallway if you need me."

"Don't you have other patients?" He asked.

"No. You are my only one. Excuse me." I turned to go, but he grabbed my wrist.

"Stay."

So I stayed.

.

"DAMMIT!"

I flinched. "Berwald, it's okay." I tried to take his arm but he shook me off. He had fallen again while trying walk using the double bars. It had been four months since his surgery, and things weren't going like we thought they would. His pain hadn't gone away like we had hoped. He could hardly put any weight on his leg, and he refused to use a cane for anything.

I sighed and sat down in front of him. "Berwald-"

"I don't want to hear it. I don't need to hear how well I am doing." He buried his head in his hands. "I'm so useless as I am now. Just leave me alone. I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much." I felt anger wash over me.

"You're not useless. You can still build while you are in a wheelchair." Berwald's head snapped up. "You can still do so many things. You don't have it half as bad as the people who have lost their arms, or their legs. They don't give up on their third of eleventh try, because what else can they do? Besides try." I pushed his shoulders back. His eyes were so blue, so hopeless. "I can't have children, but I don't see myself as useless. I can't have any, but that doesn't mean I won't stop trying." I felt tears spring up in my eyes, and my throat was closing. "And here you are… Giving up. Like it's nothing." I stood and turned away, willing the tears to stop falling down my cheeks.

I heard something rustling behind me, but I didn't turn around. I was half tempted to run away, and beg Alfred for another assignment. Suddenly there was a weight on my back, almost toppling me over. I grabbed one of the hand bars for support, and looked over my shoulder only to come face to face with Berwald.

I felt my face heat up, and I knew it must have been cherry red. He leaned most of his considerable weight onto me. He had to lean down so his head would be on my shoulder. He put his face into my neck. "M' sorry."

That was all he said. I looked back to the ground. I reached up with my free hand at smoothed it through his hair. "It's okay." I couldn't help but forgive him. Not because I felt sorry for him, no not at all.

But because I had fallen in love with him.

.

"Berwald…?"

There was no answer. All I could here were soft sniffled and strangled breathing. It was well past 2 in the morning. I wasn't sure why I was even at the hospital. I should have been at home, sleeping in my twin bed, or listening to the sink leak. Of course upon getting to the hospital I went straight to Berwald's room. It was like a second home for me.

Six months had passed since Berwald's surgery. He finally accepted the cane, though he tried to not use it as often as possible. He seemed to always want to be near me as well. He would hold on to me for support, even when I knew he didn't need it. He sometimes brushed the hair out of my face. Whenever he was just lying in bed, he liked to hold my hand. I tried not to think too much about it, but what if… he liked me back?

"Berwald, are you okay?" I whispered into the dark room. I walked further in and placed my bag down on the ground next to the door. I shrugged my coat off and hung it on the hook next to Berwald's. I heard the bed creak as Berwald shifted. A hiss of pain. I rushed to the bedside, and turned on the table lamp. My stomach dropped, and my heart clenched like a fist had grabbed it and squeezed.

"Oh, Ber…"

His face was pale and wet with tears and sweat. His eyes were moving rapidly under his eyelids. He was dreaming. Probably having a nightmare. I sighed. This poor man. The pain he must feel every day. The feeling of being alone. I took his hand in my own and squeezed it. It was trembling. I reached to his face and caressed his cheek. I began to sing the song my mother used to sing to me when I was a child.

" _You are my sunshine_

 _My only sunshine_

 _You make me happy_

 _When skies are gray_

 _You'll never know dear_

 _How much I love you_

 _Please don't take_

 _My sunshine away"_

Tears pricked my eyes, and I cried right along with him. I put my head on his chest, still humming. I hummed until my throat grew dry and my eyelids closed. I hummed until his breathing evened out, and our tears stopped. I hummed until we were both asleep, our hearts heavy and our minds muddled. I hummed as I clung to him, wishing he would love me back.

.

That morning had been nothing short of awkward. He had woken up before I had. He woke me up by slowly carding his fingers through my hair. We had stared at each other for awhile, in silence. My face was still red and blotchy, but he didn't seem to mind. He told me that he had never seen me in normal clothes before. I looked down at myself. I was wearing an old hoodie and pajama bottoms. I tried to leave. I needed to get changed into my usual scrubs. I needed to get away from the look he was giving me.

His eyes were on fire, and they wouldn't look away from my red face, my violet eyes. He looked at me as if I were the most precious thing in the world to him.

He wouldn't let me.

Berwald kissed me then. Slowly, painfully. I knew it then. I couldn't be his nurse anymore. Not when I wanted to be so much more. But when I tried to leave once again, he grabbed my wrist, told me not to go, his eyes so sad, but on fire.

So I stayed.

 **.**

Berwald was packing his things to leave. I felt as though my heart was being torn out and my chest was being crushed, but I smiled none the less.

It had been eleven months since his surgery. He walked willingly with his cane. He told me that he would make his own once he got back to his shop. He hardly smiled, still. But I learned to see Berwald's smile in his eyes. The way they shone when he was happy. They didn't shine today.

He didn't want to leave. I didn't want him to either. But he was better now. He no longer cried at night. He could walk more or less. He could do other various activities without trouble, as we had discovered on those nights when neither one of us could sleep. I wished so desperately I could go with him, back to Sweden. He had even asked me to.

But I couldn't leave my job, my friends who were my only family, on the chance that Berwald and I could have worked for the rest of our lives. I couldn't leave, I had to-

"Go with him."

I looked behind me. It was Alfred. He was smiling, albeit sadly, at me. "W-what?" I opened and closed my mouth. He knew. He _knew_ , but hadn't said anything to Elizaveta or anyone else. "I can't just leave you guys, or, or…" I sent Alfred a pleading look. He pulled me into a hug.

"Go with him Tina. I promise, we'll be okay."

I pulled away and kissed Alfred's cheek. "Okay."

So I went.

.

Everyone has a story about how they met the one that they love. Sometimes it's a simple story, like they were high school sweethearts that never grew apart. Same thing goes for college sweethearts, or middle school.

Sometimes the story is more intricate, and they somehow met each other at a party or a bar. They quickly fell in love and now they have two kids and a house. Sometimes they have a dog. Or a cat.

The story gets even more elaborate sometimes. They hated each other for half their lives, but sooner or later realized that it was passion and love. Sometimes people travelled halfway across the world, and found that who they were talking to wasn't who they said they were, but find themselves loving them anyway.

Berwald and I had fallen in love slowly. We didn't really even notice it happening until we couldn't be apart. We are the damaged kind of love. The love that is dependent on one another. Berwald and I now live together in Sweden. Berwald still uses a cane, but he gets around okay. We have an adopted son, named Peter. We couldn't be happier.

Oh, and we have a dog.

…

 **Oh man. I really liked this one you guys. Please tell me what you think!**

 **I DON'T OWN "You are my Sunshine"... Obviously**


	4. Are You Ready?

**Get your tissues ready folks**

 **Good reading to you all!**

 **Are You Ready?**

"I'm surprised he is still with us."

Ah, that line again. I get it every other day from the men in white coats, and the women in white and blue scrubs. Don't they know an old man can still hear?

Yes. I am old and grey. My eyes are no longer usable, though my son says they are still as red as they came. He told me I still had a head of the whitest hair, though I knew I had started balding at the tender age of forty. My body was saggy, and thin, and brittle. I shook whenever I held anything. But, yes. I am still here, alive and kicking.

Well, not so much kicking as sleeping. _She_ used to only appear in my dreams. She was a woman with the longest, silkiest hair I had ever seen. She has the most beautiful face. The face of an angel, with bright blue eyes and pale, flawless skin. Funnily enough, she wore red glasses.

We spoke sometimes, her and I. She asked me so many questions.

Was I eating well, how was my son doing, how was I doing. Sometimes we would sit in complete silence, and she would just look at me. She seemed so familiar, but no matter how many times I asked, she would only shake her head and smile, making my chest ache in the best way possible.

Nowadays, she appeared when I was awake too. She was the only one I could see vividly. Everyone else was blurry, and out of focus, even my awesome little grandkids. Sadly, my son brought them less and less, as I got weaker and weaker.

I am no fool. I know what is happening to me. I know that I am going soon. I couldn't blame my son for not wanting his kids to see that.

The woman would sit next to me as I spoke to my son sometimes. She looked at him so adoringly, but at the same time, so sadly. He never seemed to notice her. When I had brought her up, my son looked to sadly at me, _I_ almost cried. And I don't cry.

More often than not, the lady would ask me the same question, day in and day out.

" _Are you ready?"_

Ready for what exactly, I wasn't sure. But I always said I need to see my boy one more time, I need to settle this first, this, that, or the other thing. But I am getting tired, I suppose. Sometimes, I sleep for entire days. She comes more and more. She never looks at me sadly, just with a smile in her eyes and on her lips.

She is beautiful.

…

"Dad?"

I can't bring myself to open my eyes. I am so comfortable. She is holding my hand. She is so warm, unlike this hospital room.

"You can go now, dad." Why are you crying, my boy? "I won't be alone. I got my babies, and my wife."

I know that son. The woman is getting brighter, her skin more and more perfect. But, son, are you sure you are ready? Have I taught you enough?

She begins to tug my arm a little. He smile is brighter than ever before.

"You made me into the most awesome man I could be. You are the best man I have ever met."

I wish I could smile at my baby boy, but I am just too tired. She touches my face and I feel a tug in my stomach, in my chest, in my arms and legs.

"Go be with mama now. I am sure she misses you, so much."

His mother. Ah, what an amazing woman. Gorgeous too. The woman smiles at me again, her eyes ablaze.

"Monika?" I whisper.

My boy laughs. It's a wet laugh. "Yeah, Monika dad. I'm sure she is waiting for you."

The woman, Monika, laughs, and oh, what a sound. She tugs at my hand again. I feel my body jolt for only a second.

I am a young man again, with a sturdy body, a head full of starlight hair. I fold my hand over hers. She leads me to a door so bright and warm, it makes me ache with longing.

" _Are you ready?"_

…


End file.
